


He Was Not the Hurricane

by gaysquared



Series: My Fairy Tail [5]
Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Angst, BDSM, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Break Up, Dysfunctional Relationships, Happy Ending, Loss of Innocence, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Marijuana, Personal Growth, Recreational Drug Use, Sub!Gray, Underage Sex, but later Switch!Gray, no not the penis kind, well the penis kind AND the regular kind okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 07:51:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5997622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaysquared/pseuds/gaysquared
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Glances into how Lyon Vastia shaped Gray's sexuality and his experiences. </p><p>Or--</p><p>What if Gray and Lyon met again after Ur way before any other members of Fairy Tail ever met the other Ice Mage?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Don't know I felt like Lyon needed to be smoking a joint in this scene, but for some reason, he just did. 
> 
> Set when they're 15/16; young, I know. Just so you know, the happy ending doesn't apply to their relationship. Just to Gray. 
> 
> Obviously, referenced drug use in this chapter. And kind of awkward consent dynamics; they both agree to it, but they're also just really young.

Gray doesn't believe it the first time he thinks he sees Lyon in town, milling through the streets, and then he turns a corner and he's gone, just like that. 

Gray thinks he's imagining things; he's sure of it. 

The second time, Gray knows it can't be a coincidence, because even after years apart, Lyon's face is unmistakeable. He follows him into a little side street, almost an alley, and Lyon sees him. The look he gives him makes his hair stand up on end and his mouth go dry. He feels like a voyeur, like he's been found out, but he just followed Lyon a few feet around a corner. 

Lyon blinks, hands digging into the pockets of his cloak. His eyes are dark and intense, as always, and he spits out words before Gray can even understand them. The name of a motel, he realizes; it must be where Lyon's staying. Lyon looks at him again, gaze just as intense, and turns to leave. No other words, no explanations. 

It takes Gray three days to work up the courage to go and find him. He tells himself it's stupid by now, because Lyon's probably not even in town anymore. But he is. 

When he knocks on the door, Lyon gives him a throaty, "Come in," and he obeys. Lyon is stretched out on the bed, head lolled back, eyes closed. He raises something to his lips, and that's when the smell hits Gray, strong and something cuttingly natural. 

"You're smoking that stuff?" Gray asks, and doesn't mention anything about its legality, because he's not quite that naive. 

Lyon's eyes open, and he sits up slightly, up on his elbows, and throws Gray an exasperated look. 

"The fuck's it look like?" he chews out, voice dark, like Gray was only commenting on the smoking part, not the substance. Lyon takes another drag from the joint, eyeing Gray suspiciously. "Why do you care, anyways?" he asks, throwing things back at Gray, putting things back on him. 

"Don't," Gray shrugs. 

"Why, you want a hit?" Lyon asks, although not in lieu of offering, instead still donning a suspicious mask. 

Gray shakes his head. "Stuff's bad for your head when you're so young." He's moving into the room, then, like he's invading territory, and they both know it. 

Lyon chuckles darkly. "Don't need this to have a fucked up head, Gray," he sighs, and it's the first time Lyon's said his name in years. 

Gray nods, moving closer. He hasn't noticed Lyon's shirtlessness until now; it simply didn't occur to him, him being the way he is. "Just wanted to check up on you. Wondered why you didn't try and find me. It's been a long time." 

"Yeah," Lyon says shortly, like maybe he'll punch Gray's teeth in if he keeps talking. "I wasn't gonna come waltzing in to your fancy-ass guild, that's for sure. I'm just passing through anyways." 

"Where've you been?" Gray asks, and the question's been on the tip of his tongue the whole time, and it finally breaks out. 

"Learning," Lyon answers simply, lips tight. "Been around."

Gray's almost to the bed, and it feels so odd to be standing when Lyon's on the bed, and he wants to talk to him, he does. 

"You can sit," Lyon croaks, like he knows just what Gray's thinking, and maybe he does. Gray sits on the edge of the bed, keeping his distance. Lyon sits up fully, rubbing his eyes. 

"Why're you here?" he asks, eyeing Gray wearily, and Gray really doesn't know how to reply to that. The answer seems obvious, and yet it still evades him. 

"Make sure you're alright," he answers, but even that doesn't sound right. "Know what you're up to." 

Lyon nods, raising the rolled-up paper to his lips, and blows smoke in Gray's face. "Think I'm doin' alright." 

Gray clears his throat roughly from the smoke, and looks at Lyon intensely. The other mage's eyes are sullen and sunken in, his torso thin, now full of lines and angles, rather than the round curves of childhood. He's handsome, Gray thinks, in a sort of morbid way, at least. 

"How've you been," Lyon asks, although it's layered in something expectant, almost like he wants answers he isn't asking questions for. 

"Good, I think," Gray sighs. "Just-- learning. Trying. Life."

Lyon nods, looking pensive. "It's weird, right? You think it's weird? Seeing each other after so long."

Gray blinks. "Well, yeah." 

"See, I don't think it is," Lyon continues, making eye contact. "Not so weird. Seems like it would have happened eventually. Life's a bitch that way." He pauses, clearing his throat. "I suppose it isn't all bad, though." 

Gray swallows as the other boy looks at him, intense as ever. He's about to say something, maybe, Gray wants to respond, but then Lyon asks, "You know how to shotgun?"

Gray blinks, shakes his head. 

"It's when you breathe smoke into somebody else's mouth," Lyon explains, looking down at the last of the joint in his hand. "They have to breathe in, right as you breathe out." 

Gray doesn't know why he feels like he can't breathe. 

"So," Lyon starts. "You want a hit or not?"

It seems a momentous question, although perhaps it isn't. 

"O-Okay," Gray answers, feeling slightly confused. 

Lyon smiles slightly, nods. "Okay. Open your mouth." He takes a hit, and so Gray obeys, opening his mouth. 

Lyon moves in close, closer, closer than Gray thinks he should have to, and then he's breathing out into Gray's mouth. He breathes in instinctually, their lips almost touching, and it's heavy and sharp and cold, but that cold is from Lyon, he realizes. His head swims slightly, and subsides, mellowing out into a low buzz of warmth. It's not that much of a difference, although it shouldn't be, as it's only one hit. 

It's then that he realizes Lyon hasn't moved. His lips are still only a centimeter away from his, gaping slightly, and his eyes flutter open and closed, like he's trying to look at Gray, but he's took close. 

Gray wants to ask questions. Wants to say something. Lyon's breathing in and out right by his mouth, and the sensation is odd, and it feels like they're about to tip into each other. He doesn't have time to say anything as the moment ends; Lyon's lips press into his own, close tight, and Gray isn't sure why he isn't surprised, why it feels like this is a natural thing, why he thinks of course, of course, of course. 

He's about to respond when Lyon opens his mouth against his, and he feels weak, empty, as he opens his. Then there's a warm tongue invading his mouth, and he curls in on himself, something grotesque and churning sparking in his stomach, and he presses back with ferocity. He wonders when his fate was sealed. Now? Later? Back when he entered the room? From the moment he first saw Lyon in the streets?

Their lips move against each other, slick and messy, and Gray wonders how just a kiss can make everything feel warm and his chest feel tight. Then Lyon's pulling him in, into him, and they're closer, and Gray loses his shirt faster than he usually does. He's not sure who takes it off, really. Lyon's hands are surprisingly warm on his bare skin and Gray buries his fists in Lyon's white hair, tugging slightly. That makes Lyon groan, move his hips up, and; oh. He's hard. 

Gray's not sure when it happened, but he doesn't have the strength to stop, and grinds his hips down, and it's feels like pure heat and sparks of pleasure, and it makes him pant into Lyon's mouth. They're wearing way too many clothes, always, always... 

"Fuck," Lyon mumbles, breathing deep. "What do you want to--?"

"You could fuck me," Gray says, too quickly, and he feels heat rise in his cheeks. He's not even sure why he says it, but it feels right; the image, imagining what it might feel like. Lyon blinks. 

"Are you sure?" he asks, voice even scratchier, deeper than before. 

"I mean, you know what to do, right?" Gray responds. He knows, basically, the mechanics. 

"Okay," Lyon whispers, looking at Gray like he's a wild animal that might attack him at any moment. "I'd have to; I'd have to prepare you." 

"Yeah," Gray croaks, and he's already moving away to shed his jeans. 

It's ten minutes later that Lyon finally works up the nerve to stick a finger inside him. Gray's laid out on the bed, legs spread in accommodation, looking stubbornly up at the ceiling in embarrassment. Lyon twists his finger around, the lubricant cold against Gray's skin, and it's still the weirdest thing he's ever felt. He's tried it a few times on himself, but never gotten very far. 

Lyon adds another finger, and there's a slight burn, but it doesn't really hurt. He spreads his fingers and Gray's guts twist at the strange feeling; he works him open, slowly, whispering to Gray to relax. "It's better if you just relax," he says. 

The third finger does hurt, but only at first. He adjusts to it quickly, and then Lyon's digging his fingers inside him, still stretching him, but moving now like they're looking for something. 

"It should be-- just right here," Lyon says, and Gray doesn't know what he's babbling on about, not until his fingers twist up again and brush against the spot that makes his hips jump off the bed. 

Gray's starting to understand why people actually do this now. Lyon assaults that spot, grinds his fingers up against it, and it gets Gray hard in less than a minute. Soon, he's slapping at Lyon's arm, trying to get his attention. "Come on," he says. "Now, do it now."

Lyon swallows and nods, moving away slightly, and then crawls between Gray's parted legs. "Let me know if it hurts," he says. 

He slicks himself up, lines up, and the head catches at Gray's entrance. The odd stimulation almost makes him shake; there's something, physically, about that place that just does that. Lyon starts to push in, achingly slow, and Gray breathes in with the burn. It doesn't hurt, at least not in the way he thought, although he feels the stretch and slight sting; but really, it just burns, and it aches of things beyond it. 

Lyon slides in further, all the way in, and when he bottoms out, Gray can't help but wince. He breathes, slow, calms himself. 

"You can move," he says, his voice whistling slightly as he breathes out. 

Lyon nods, looking apprehensive and lost at the same time, and moves his hips shallowly. They're pressed up against each other, skin on skin, and the stretch to accommodate Lyon grows. It gets easier with each small push of his hips, and Gray tells him to go faster. 

"It feels really good," Lyon says, a whine lost in his words, complying with Gray's command. Gray simply wraps his legs up around the other; that changes the angle, and suddenly all the pressure of sharp, shallow thrusts is on his prostate. 

He sucks in air, cock hard between their bodies. Lyon rocks into him, over and over again. Neither of them last long, but they're young. It takes a few more minutes for Gray to come, crying out into his own hand, feeling utterly detached from his body. Lyon pulls out and jacks off onto his chest, and he looks angelic in a way that makes Gray's chest squeeze tight when the other comes. 

That's the first time, and he figures it'll be the last time, because Lyon is gone in the morning, and doesn't show back up for months. But he's wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah. It gets both worse and better, really. Sorry if I got a little too pensive with the writing, by that's just my style. Will probably be more chapters, just not super long ones. 
> 
> Comment, please, it gives me life!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyon's gonna be shitty for a while, guys, sorry

Months pass before Gray sees Lyon again. He forgets about it, writes off the experience, ignores it. There's no point in thinking about it, really. It happened, and it's over now, and nobody cares if he finds himself thinking about it when he stares into koi ponds and watches the fish splash and fight for food, for their survival, disturbing the glass-like tranquility of water into an erupting storm. 

That is, until he comes home one day to Lyon standing outside his door. He's considerably surprised; they exchange a few words, awkward answers, Lyon's as evasive as usual. He looks a little healthier than the last time Gray saw him; a little more well-rested. A little less like he's trying to look Death in the eye. 

They don't stumble through the door with mouths attached to each other like in the stories, because they barely make it inside before Gray is on his knees, abrupt and daring Lyon with a glare. 

It's new; Gray likes new things, likes challenges; can't stay away from them. Lyon's cock tastes like salt and sweat and something musky that he honestly couldn't care any less about; what he cares about is sparing his teeth and watching Lyon unravel. Precision and composure melt into hair-tugging and thrusting hips, sighs and breaths and groans and a red-faced Mage who's looking at you like you're heaven. 

It's addicting. It's a goddamn rush. Gray will never, ever forget the feeling of swallowing him down for the first time; the movement stays with him forever, becomes an instinct in relaxing his throat, and he can never unlearn the skill. Lyon comes down his throat and Gray feels like a God. 

What's more, Lyon can tell how he glows with the power; he sees it, knows what it means, in a silent communication. Almost in retaliation, he pushes Gray to the kitchen floor and jacks him off slow until he's begging. 

Lyon always liked it when he begged, didn't he? 

"I don't have time to fuck you," he says, like he's truly sorry. He probably is. 

He leaves Gray on the kitchen floor, and doesn't come back into town for two weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hot but sad, just like me ayye


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for bdsm, dirty talk, spanking, bondage, and esp subspace in this chapter. Includes bad bdsm etiquette (Lyon hasn't really figured out "aftercare" is a thing yet).

Lyon keeps coming back, and Gray likes to think it's because of him. Sometimes weeks pass, sometimes months; but every time, their bodies spin into each other dangerously, and they dismantle the facades they both have; of composure, of pride. 

The first time Gray rides him, he finds something that rivals sucking Lyon off. The look, of admiration, the complete obliteration of pretense in a face full of sneers and posturing, and the completely lost look in somebody who is only a boy, toppled the world. 

He lets Gray top on his 16th birthday, and he loves it, the heat, the tightness, and Lyon comes on his cock before he even has time to process it, and it feels like he's high. 

Over time, Lyon's hands get harder and more calloused but his lips feel softer; he's training harder, now, and his skinny frame fills out into something defined and wiry and strong. 

The first time Lyon asks to tie him to the bed, Gray doesn't forget. He never forgets the rush, and shaking limbs, the skating along orgasm, the way he would have done anything, given anything to come at that moment, and he felt alive in a way that he thought couldn't exist. Even if his guts twist in fury when Lyon comes over his chin. 

He gets lost in it; the different moments blur together. He discovers what it's like to feel infinitely high and low at the same time, deep in subspace where all he wants in the world is Lyon. And later, to be good for Lyon. To be good. 

There's the first time Lyon spanks him over his lap, hard slaps against his ass, and he comes all over Lyon's thighs, voice stretched out thin in pretty little whining gasps he would never live down in another situation. 

Then there's the teasing, the talking, and he swears to God Lyon's voice alone can get him hard. 

"You like it when I do that?" and "Of course you do, so good for me," and "My little cockslut, so pretty for me, all mine," and "Gonna take my cock tonight? You take it so good, baby."

The words are what make him feel like he's tipping right out of his body in the middle of everything, like the world is gone, has floated away, and all he can hear is Lyon's voice, a lifeline, and he's floating up in the sky with the clouds. Weeks, months apart; and this is what he gets; sometimes he finds he's waiting, almost like a dog. 

And every time, every time, after it's over, Lyon gets up and leaves, breaks away so suddenly after shedding himself away into another person. It isn't until years later Gray realizes how glaringly wrong this is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *patiently waits for all the "50 Sahdes of GrAy," jokes*


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this one is... Angsty. The next couple ones will be. Poor Gray, but it's my own fault, I suppose. 
> 
> Bad sort of breakup and erotic asphyxiation in this chapter.

It's been almost six months, since this started, and Lyon doesn't show up as often. He doesn't look at Gray when he fucks him. Gray is left feeling unsatisfied, an itch under his skin, nauseating and empty. The worst part is that he isn't sure when it happened, when things changed. He wonders if he should care at all, but he finds himself wondering if he did something wrong. And that makes him want to scratch Lyon's face in rage when he's on top of him. 

The last time is when Lyon chokes him. He warns him, to be fair, and when Gray's about to come, his calloused hands close tight around Gray's throat. It feels like the sharpest high he's ever had; he comes and he's boneless, gasping for breath, realizing he's never felt fear and pleasure skate so closely together. 

Then Lyon's getting up, dressing himself stiffly, and somehow that scares Gray more than every time Lyon's left him afterwards. 

Then, there it is: "I don't want to do this anymore."

Gray doesn't breathe for a moment. Doesn't say anything. He's still breathing hard, and he doesn't believe his ears, and the shock settles low in his stomach. "What?"

"I said, I don't want this anymore," Lyon sighs, like Gray's being an idiot. 

"Why the fuck not?" Gray spits, acid boiling up in his guts. 

"I need to focus on my training," Lyon states, simply. "And really, it's not you, but it's not the same anymore. It's lost it's shine."

It's not you, he says, and that is a cliche, Gray knows, and he feels like vomiting because he knows what it means. Gray's the one who's lost his shine. He's not pretty and virginal and corruptible anymore. Not something that cries out unprecedented when Lyon fucks him anymore, and the biting thing is, he's being punished for that. For what Lyon did. 

"Get the fuck out," he grinds out, teeth tight. 

Lyon stares at him. 

"Get the fuck out, or I will punch your goddamn teeth in," Gray pants, acid crawling up his throat. Lyon blinks, like he's about to shrug. He doesn't say anything, and closes the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yaaaaaa. Lyon gets better with age, I promise. He figures his shit out. Just not soon enough, for Gray's sake.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a super smexy chapter, sorry

At first, he tries to punch everything he sees. He vibrates in anger, until the rage fades into bitterness. 

If his guildmates notice anything, they don't say it. He sulks greedily, feeling nauseous at his own self pity. He feels desperately angry that he's even upset about this at all. 

With the months that pass, bitterness fades into apathy, and it should be healing, but he's not so sure it is. 

The first time he fucks a woman is when he's almost seventeen; he meets her and she comes home with him, and she's soft where he's used to seeing hard lines, all curves and cushioned skin, and he doesn't know why it feels wrong, but it does. 

So, still a teenager, and used to at one point getting fucked at least once a month, he goes back to men. That feels better, and he realizes how unlike Lyon so many of them are, how hard and soft they can be, and it still hurts sometimes, but he can forget about it when he's inside somebody. He learns what it is to please another person with no care for himself, no anger, no competition. Just desire and pleasure and what he can give to others, and it's soft and warm and it belongs to him. 

So he keeps doing it, and even with women, if he's pleasing them that way, he feels like it's worth it. This is what he's meant to do, and he's in control of it; it's his path, his sexuality, and he's never letting it go. 

2 years since Lyon left, and they pass in the whirlwind of time, and the way growth bleeds everything together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things get better :) it's just time. Takes time.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyon comes back, and Gray's been doing some growing.

Gray has a feeling about Reitei's identity from the moment they see him; still, he doubts himself. When the mask comes off and he sees Lyon's face, he wonders why he did. He knew, from the first moment who it had to be, because he knew that voice. He would never forget that voice. 

He'd be lying if he said beating the shit out of the other Mage didn't feel fucking amazing, because it did. But he's had to let go; move on. It's been two years, and he doesn't have the energy to be angry. 

The first time Lyon touches him again, outside of flying fists, is just a slight passing thing on the shoulder, and it almost makes Gray want to vomit, but he breathes, and breathes, and realizes it's all for not. There's no point anymore. He doesn't even know how to be angry. And things settle between them, something uneasy and tense but so tired that he barely feels it. 

They fight together, and it's like old times, old, old times; when things were really, really still good. A decade ago. Gray lets that go, too. It isn't his anymore. Maybe it never was. 

Then Lyon takes that liking to Juvia, his enthusiasm almost on par with her own. She's a sweet girl, there's no denying. But she constantly offers Gray all of herself; she wants to give him everything, and that simply doesn't make sense, because it's Gray who wants to give. He can't take things anymore. It's not who he is. 

Lyon's never done anything half-assed, even if he comes on a bit strong at first. Gray thinks maybe Lyon sees the similarities between himself and Juvia; because they're there, even if he doesn't want to admit it. He knows, inside, that they'll get together, because Lyon's grown, and he understands now, what it means to care for another person. Too late for Gray, but he's good to her. 

When they do get together, Gray allows himself a small gift, and joins them one night. It's sharp and high like it always has been with Lyon, and Juvia is soft and receptive, and he realizes how well Lyon and Juvia work together. It's a reminder of the past, but at the same time, not like before at all. It's just a moment. 

That's the very last time. Gray doesn't let himself go back after that. He doesn't regret it; far from it, really. But times have changed, they all have changed, and he isn't that person anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy ending in the way, just got to work it out.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to the fun things; and Gray moving on :)

The first time he and Natsu fuck is in the guild's restroom, and yes, he knows that's not exactly something to be proud of, but he doesn't see why he'd slutshame himself at this point. 

They've messed around before, got a little too close during puberty at times, used to make everything a competition; but it's been a while, and things have been tense, and Gray's been waiting for something to happen, although he might have preferred Natsu waited until they got to, you know, a house perhaps. Preferably one of their own. 

Natsu is unsurprisingly hot all over, skin branding him in place when they kiss up against the wall. Damn space-heater. His hands are warm and mischievous and wandering, and he won't shut the fuck up, arguing with Gray even as he bites at his neck. 

Gray lets Natsu top him up against the wall, and it's been a few months since he's bottomed, but it isn't so hard to adjust. It seems ridiculous, but Natsu really is burning him up inside, and he's actually laughing at one point, poking Natsu in the the cheek.  
Natsu almost drops him when he comes; melting into jelly under Gray's own heat, and Gray certainly knows that feeling. 

"Idiot," he sighs out, and then Natsu buries his face in his neck. "Flamebrain?" He asks, concerned. 

"You smell real good," Natsu mumbles, muffled. He wraps his arms around Gray's torso and sighs, settling into the curve of Gray's body. "Still gonna kick your ass later. Just gimme a sec."

"Dork," Gray snorts, trying to hide his shaking hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Natsu is actual little chihuahua barking at a laser pointer tho like that's just him


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idiot boys doing dumb shit, the usual
> 
>  
> 
> Just a bit of bondage ;)

Natsu is a handful.

Natsu won't let him go two days without reminding him of their activities; they still fight, hard as ever, although it feels more friendly and jovial. Natsu is so infinitely full of energy, a sun fucked up with hydrogen, constantly flitting through life with hyperactivity.

He's nothing like Lyon, a polar opposite, lit up in himself. He lets Natsu tie his hands to the bedposts while the Dragon-Slayer rides him, hips canting down like he's looking desperately for a drug, and Gray hasn't felt that combination of sensations before, and it's so much softer, so warm, air heavy, and he feels anchored in his body and to the bed.

Natsu constantly talks, mouth running, except it's nothing like how Lyon used to talk. It's all chatter, completely ridiculous things, even when they're in the middle of fucking.

Gray could be fucking him and all he would hear is, "What did you want to get for dinner?" Panting-- "Udon, or--? _Oh fuck_ that's good--"

"Did you see that job today? Thinking about taking it? Oh, God, fuck, right there, right there, _fucking hell--_ "

Or even, "You're so fucking stupid, that's not what she meant at all, and-- Holy shit, I'm gonna come, _Gray_ , fuck--"

The only time he's quiet is right at the moment of orgasm and directly afterwards. Words fade into unintelligible groans, and then he slumps lazily, fucked-out, and grins his idiot smile like the dumb-ass he is. It makes Gray want to work for that moment of peace and quiet over, and over, and over, and over again. Natsu still complains, although not when he's about to shoot off.

Truthfully, Gray almost kind of likes it when Natsu talks; the stupid words melt into a comforting hum, even if it's ridiculous, and it should be annoying, and it is, but he still likes to hear Natsu talk. They still constantly bicker, but there's no bite in it. Gray thinks constantly giving each other orgasms probably helps with that. It's a lot easier to be nice when your brain is flooded with happy, soft hormones.

Sometimes Natsu has nightmares at night, but Gray doesn't ask about it. He'll tell Gray if he wants to; it isn't his business. They both have their pasts.

He pokes Natsu in the ribs when he makes stupid allusions to their intimate moments in the guild, because nobody's supposed to know. He stops comparing Natsu to Lyon, because really, they're not the same at all. Natsu makes him feel oddly alive, as stupid as he thinks that sounds, which is pretty fucking stupid. He is constantly full; Gray doesn't feel that itch anymore, even if he also always seems to feel insatiable.

Natsu doesn't talk to him for a week when he gets semen on his scarf. Although, _for fuck's sake_ , it was Natsu's fault, he's the one who went down on Gray while he was wearing it. Gray isn't sure what the hell he was expecting.

He misses him over that week, but knows he'll be back. He could live without Natsu, he thinks; it wouldn't be nice, or necessarily entirely pleasant, but he technically doesn't _need_ him. But he wants him.

And maybe that's why he keeps coming back; because Lyon was a drug, but Natsu is a gift. A shitty gift, that he subjects himself to constantly, for some unknown reason.

He used to think Lyon was a storm, but now he realizes that Lyon was a lake he drowned in.

Natsu couldn't be more different; he's a firestorm constantly flaring and reaching, unable to control itself. Annoying as fuck, maybe, too, like the sun in your eyes.

Gray is his own thing, a spinning thing of half-resolved emotions and confused feelings and yet a penetrating peace, and he thinks, yes; he will be the hurricane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you think Natsu ever calls Gray's dick a Popsicle 
> 
> Comments are highly appreciated :)


End file.
